Disclaimers: See Chapter 1 for more info.

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Oh, this was a nightmare. I really needed my laptop, just to write down what sorts of new ideas were coming my way. That would have been really nice, but then so was this bridge with its mixture of blue and pinkish-purple stones. It was a really nice bridge and there was the wooden mill with its large water wheel. Why did this look so familiar? I spun around to find a whole crowd of hobbits in the market. The market? Was this the Shire? It was so bright here, with its mixture of browns, greys, greens and yellows. I could imagine staying here, but then what would I do? I needed to go home. I needed to—

Whoops. I had to move fast and I did scramble to my feet as a group of ponies charged forward. On top of them were hobbits who weren't very friendly to me.

"Watch it, traveler!" said a really gruff, rude hobbit. The only way I knew he was a hobbit was from his hairy feet. Yup, I was either dreaming, crazy or had just died and was searching for a way to get to heaven.

I checked my clothes over. They were really outlandish for this place. I would have preferred dresses, but there was just something about them that I couldn't handle. Then again, it seemed I would have to wear dresses in this place. I would have preferred jeans and a shirt, as well as socks to cover my cold feet.

I took a seat on the bridge, leaning my back against the wall. I guess I could wait for Gandalf to show up, but then what did he tell me? I was only barely paying attention to what he said. It was hopeless. Without Gandalf, I had no way of getting back home. And I really needed to go home, but at the same time, I needed to accept this. It was so easy for the girls in those tenth walker fanfics. They loved this place. They didn't want to go back home. Me… home was always the first thought, and yet why did I want to leave it in the first place? I followed Gandalf out the door. Must have been something…

"Excuse me, miss," said a friendly voice. I turned my gaze up to her. She was a hobbit, too, with curly brown hair and wearing a deep grey and blue party dress. She asked, curious, "Are you lost?"

"Maybe," I said, acknowledging her presence. I asked, curious but doing my best not to sound harsh, for however long that lasted. "Who are you?"

"I'm Rosie Cotton. Rose for short," Rosie said, with a smiling face. I grinned a small grin. I could see why she was popular. "Well, if you need to stay at the inn, I'm sure we could put you to work. You seem like someone who hasn't worked."

"I write," I answered, hoping this excuse worked. Even though it was true. "Does that count?"

"Have you written any books?" Rose asked, curious. I wasn't sure how to answer this. In a way, I was published, the second I posted anything online, but it was a hard question to ask. I politely shook my head. It was so hard to talk to people. I didn't think it would be hard here to speak about myself. Rose shook her head. "I'm sure you'll get there. I'd gladly read them."

"Eh…" I didn't know how to answer this either, "…would you?"

"Sure. You can write anything you'd like," Rosie insisted. That gave me some ideas, but no. No! Fanfiction was free. I couldn't profit from it. But maybe there would be a way to write fanfiction here without ruining things and still get some writing done. My attention returned to the present when Rosie asked me a question, "So, where do you live? You must live somewhere in Bree. That's where all the hobbits go when they're seeking adventures."

"What? But my feet…." My feet were hairy. No! And my hair… my brown hair was really curly. "I am a hobbit." Human-hobbit to be precise. What had I missed? I guess I got my wish.

"Your feet what… um, who are you?" Rosie asked, pointing her index finger at me. It was rather rude, but then… oh wait. My name.

"Aria. Aria Breuer," I said, introducing myself and extending my hand to her. How was it I understood them? Wasn't the Common Tongue… but how?

"You all right? You seem lost," Rosie asked me, concerned. In truth, I didn't know what to do. Wasn't Rosie Sam's beau? What part of the timeline was I in? What was going on? Still, Rosie moved me across the bridge. Honestly, I never felt so lost in my life! "We'll take you inside the Green Dragon. Surely someone knows who you are."

"They won't know me. I'm not from around here. I'm not from… Middle-earth," I answered. Was I crossing a line? Then again, I must be in the past. Of course, I wasn't from Middle-earth, not in the sense of the word. Not even close to call. So, in a way, I was home, just not in the right place. "I mean, I am just not from this time. It's a bit difficult to explain." Wasn't there a rule about this? Then again, I was too far into the future to cause any real damage, unless it had something to do with the books or the movies. Then again, I would have to keep quiet about that, at least until the quest was over. I couldn't imagine what Frodo would say if he saw me… oh boy. Now I really was going mad… so mad, in fact that I nearly rammed my head into the green painted rounded door, causing speculation to spread around me.

"Don't worry!" Rosie called, calming the crowd down. "She's a little lost. Not from around here is all. Go back to what you were doing." She pulled me inside the inn. "Now look, time travel and all of that seems pretty outlandish, but then there are outside things we don't understand. Now come on." She led me inside the inn, closing the door after her. No. Way. Was I really inside the Green Dragon inn? Oh, the nostalgia, the fangirlish squeals engulfing me. Rosie shook her head. "So, you like it here?" She asked, cautious, "What type of work are you interested in doing?"

"Huh?" I asked, not paying attention.

"I said, what type of work do you like doing, besides writing?" Rosie asked me, curious.

That got my attention. "I like to write. What else is there?" Was I whining? Maybe a little bit. I was better than this, older than to whine. I guess I still had childish qualities in me. Not that, that was a good thing. "I'm sorry. I just have a hard time finding things to do."

"Well," Rosie placed a hand on my shoulder, "I'm sure we can find you something. Do you have any money?" I stopped myself. Was she serious? She sighed in defeat. "You see? This is what I mean. Time travelers need something to live by. My dear Sam works so hard out in Bag End's garden. I tend the inn here. Mr. Frodo is rich and can handle himself. You seem like someone whose struggling."

Frodo was here? And Sam? What time was it? "What year is it?"

"It's 3016, in the Third Age, but that is not by Shire Reckoning," Rosie said, moving me over to a booth. "Now, you sit here and wait until I get back. I think the innkeeper would like to have a word with you." She vanished a moment later into the backroom. I grumbled over my current situation. Sure, the room was nice, brown and wood paneled from the floor to the beige painted walls and the wooden tables and chairs, and the wooden booths with their cushions attached to them, but I didn't know what to do. If the innkeeper saw me, he'd be asking a whole bunch of questions. If I sat where I was… oh, who knew what would become of me. Unfortunately, I didn't have long to question. Rosie was back and she wasn't alone, "Miss Aria, this is Bob Billson, the innkeeper of this tavern."

"Pleased to meet you," I said, extending my hand to him. He certainly had the look of a burly haired hobbit with a rugged expression on his face.

"Likewise," Bill smiled at me. "So, I trust this is the time traveler here, looking for work. Well, you see there's plenty to do here in the Shire. Feel free to find whatever job takes your fancy. You'll have the coinage you need soon enough."

That perked me up. I didn't know whether I would smile, but he was friendly with me. I couldn't believe it, and now I was trapped at wit's end on what to do with myself. Oh, it was home all over again. And I'm an adult… no. That didn't help matters. What was I supposed to do with myself? I didn't know. The only way I'd get out of this was… nope. I couldn't just sneak away and do nothing, while being with Frodo. I needed to grow up and get a job. But what could I do around here? I hardly knew. I was alone in this world. All alone. Well, Rosie was present. My mind wandered too much.

In the end, I chose to rest my head on my arms and sulk. There was nothing I could do. A shame that I did this in front of the innkeeper and Rosie.

"Eh, Rosie stay with her," Bill said, taking his leave.

"I will," Rosie said with a warm smile. She turned to me with so much concern in her eyes, I nearly thought she would burst. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I'm an adult and I don't know what to do with myself. I love to write and now… now I can't even use that to my advantage," I said, frustrated.

"If you love writing so much, then why not do that for a living?" Rosie told me, serious. "Think about it. You'd be a great asset to the Shire if you follow your dream."

"Do you think so?" I asked, curious.

"I know so!" said a surprisingly familiar, masculine voice. I turned my head around, popping myself up into a sitting position. No way. Could that… was he… it… it… couldn't be. Frodo? The bright blue eyed, brown-haired hobbit man I had written so much about in my fanfics? But no. I must be dreaming at this point. No, I was awake and dreams normally don't last as long as one would think. I glanced up at him as he approached Rosie. "Sorry I'm late. I couldn't help overhearing."

"Thank you, but maybe you'll have better luck with her, Frodo," Rosie said, whispering aloud to him. Yup, I was right. My instincts were right. Frodo was here, sitting right across from me. Oh man, was I dreaming or what? I felt like I was going to faint now. Colors flashed before my eyes… and I was out like a light for a few minutes.

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Thanks for reading. :)